


The Wolf and His Boy

by Oro



Series: Songs of the Wolves [1]
Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Star-crossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26730952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oro/pseuds/Oro
Summary: The Wolf of Mibu and hitokiri Battousai met as Hajime Saitou and Kenshin Himura, two lone souls in the chaotic Bakumatsu period. Tempting fate, the hitokiri concealed his identity from the other, a decision which would prove disastrous to them both.
Relationships: Himura Kenshin/Saitou Hajime, Okita Souji & Saitou Hajime
Series: Songs of the Wolves [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968478
Comments: 21
Kudos: 26





	1. The First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Child's Game](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/693859) by Aleia. 



> Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki and Shueisha.  
> This work is a re-write of a fanfic by Aleia, who is no longer active in RK fandom since 2003. I tidied the story up, re-wrote parts of the dialogues, and added some details - taken from the original manga, anime, and OVA - without a great change to the story line. My addition to the plot is the foreshadowing of a relationship between Saitou and Okita, which I would like to explore in the next story.  
> 

Hajime Saitou walked through earth roads leading to the Kamiya Kasshin-ryū dōjō, steeling himself for a dreaded encounter with the other man. A decade had passed since he saw him last. His mind took a trip down the lane he had abandoned for a long time – the memory lane.

*

It was a cold night in Kyoto. The streets Saitou took became less and less crowded. Although his comrades found his nocturnal walks useless, he still did it in the faint hope of finding a swordsman rumoured to be a shadow assassin – the hitokiri.

Who could that man be? Saitou decided he must discover first-hand if the rumours about the hitokiri’s invincibility were true.

Suddenly Saitou felt a sudden presence. As his trained eyes scanned the dark alley surrounding him, his body tensed. It was very unwise not to be on his guard in such a place.

He saw someone sitting against the cold wall. Someone small. Relaxing the grip on his sword, Saitou approached the slender figure in the dark alley.

“I say, this is not a place for a maid,” he said, slightly less cold than usual.

“I’m not a maid,” an even voice answered him. The owner of the voice stood up, and Saitou could see that the person was dressed in men’s clothing. The young person was flat-chested, all right.

“This is not a place for a lad either,” Saitou chuckled at his own mistake.

“Why do you care?” came the flat answer.

Saitou took another look at the lad, who seemed very young and delicate. He was slender, with long flaming hair falling all over his shoulders. Saitou also noticed the lad’s impressive amber eyes and smooth skin, but on his left cheek there was a long cut. It was still bleeding.

“Who did that to you?” Saitou asked, pointing at the besmirched pale face.

The flamed-hair lad did not answer, but only looked aside, so that Saitou could no longer see the wounded cheek.

“Do you know that there is a hitokiri roaming in this city at night?”

“Battousai,” the lad whispered sardonically. “Yes, I know. I’ve met him.”

Saitou managed to act nonchalantly despite the unexpected reply.

“Did you? And did Battousai do this to you?” he asked, moving closer until he stood next to the lad.

“In a way of speaking.”

Saitou lifted his hand to touch the cheek, wanting to inspect the wound more closely. “You should get it looked into,” he said.

“It’s nothing,” the lad glared, moving away from the other man. “Anything else?”

“What’s your name?” Saitou asked, half-amused.

“Himura Kenshin.”

Heart of sword, Saitou muttered to himself.

“And yours?”

“Saitou Hajime.”

Something flickered in the lad’s eyes for a split second. Saitou was surprised to see it, but the flicker was gone before he could interpret its meaning. He could not help feeling drawn. The lad was eerily beautiful, and he could feel a faint desire rising within him.

“You said you’ve met Battousai,” Saitou reprised their conversation. “Are you part of this war?”

“We all are,” the other replied impassively.

“Well, you can say that, I suppose,” Saitou smiled. The lad certainly knew how to dodge his questions. “On whose side are you, then?”

“I’m on the same side as Battousai.”

“Indeed,” Saitou said, “Then why did he hurt you?"

“People hurt each other,” said the lad, again not giving a real answer. “Sometimes they even hurt themselves.”

Somehow Saitou found it difficult to take him seriously. He was still very young, after all, and carried no weapons with him. It was hard to see him as an enemy. And yet, Saitou did not know what to made of this young person.

They stayed in silence for a while. Finally, Saitou let his hand drop from the hilt of his sword and made to leave.

“We’ll see each other again,” he said, as he walked away.

“I hope not. We are enemies.”

Saitou laughed. “Go home, child. Ask someone to dress your wound.”

No reply. And with those words they parted ways.


	2. The First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seijuro Hiko’s words are taken verbatim from the OVA.

Saitou had waited alone in the dōjō for a while now. Suddenly his body tensed. His musings were interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

“Kenshin!” Saitou heard the young miss, the owner of the dōjō, shouting to greet the newcomer.

That name! Suddenly Saitou chuckled to himself. Would the owner of the name remember him? No doubt. But how Kenshin’s reaction would be in seeing him, he could not say.

*

Saitou wondered why he was in the same place the night after. What made him think he would see Kenshin again?

Kenshin. He started to call the lad by his given name. He could not call him a child, as the thoughts that had been haunting him since the night before were of impure nature. Kenshin was a child no more; he was way too solemn for a child. This was Saitou’s excuse for desiring the young red-head.

He walked around the area where he encountered Kenshin, knowing that the odds of meeting him there again were almost nil, but he did it, nonetheless.

After an hour of aimless wandering he snorted softly to himself and decided to return to the base. He had more important things to do than pursuing a young man.

“Saitou-san?” a soft voice startled him, and he turned again to face the solemn young lad.

The young man he was looking for stepped out of the shadow, where he must have been watching him for some time. Again, Saitou wondered why he did not sense the other’s presence earlier.

“I thought it was you, Saitou-san.”

Saitou could observe him fully now. This time, the long flaming hair was tied in a high ponytail. The pale face was marred by the scar, but it emanated a soft beauty that made Saitou’s heart skipped a beat.

“Himura-kun,” Saitou smiled. “I told you we would meet again.”

“We are fated to meet again and again, I’m afraid,” the lad’s smile was tinged with sadness. “Are you looking for someone?”

Saitou lit his cigarette and answered casually, “Only the hitokiri. It’s my duty to kill that man.”

For a moment, Saitou could swear that his interlocutor’s amber eyes were shining strangely, but he brushed off the thought when suddenly he realised that the lad could give him the information he needed.

“That’s right,” he said aloud. “You know how he looks like, as you are the only person who has fought him and survived.”

“I never told you I’ve fought him,” came the flat reply.

“I thought you said he gave you that scar.”

“There are many other ways for a man to inflict a scar.”

Saitou frowned. He did not like the sound of it. “But you know who he is and where to find him,” he insisted.

“Yes. And I already told you that I’m on the same side as he. Why would I reveal the identity of Battousai to a member of Shinshengumi?”

“If I wanted, I could make you tell,” Saitou smirked, looking rather like a wolf.

“No,” the red head replied stubbornly. “For your own sake and mine, I won’t tell.”

Saitou decided to change the topic. The conversation was not going anywhere, as the lad certainly knew how to talk in circle. “Tell me, Himura-kun,” he started again, “Why are you here?”

“I like to wander alone,” the lad relaxed a little, and then leaned gracefully on the cold wall. “Like you.”

Asking questions about the lad seemed to lead to more riddles. Saitou decided to remain silent and enjoy his cigarette.

“Why do you think you’ll find the hitokiri here, Saitou-san?” the lad asked, when he realised that there would be no more questioning from Saitou’s part.

Saitou smiled, leaning on the wall beside the lad. “To be honest, I didn’t think I’ll find him here.”

“Then why are you here?”

“It won’t help telling you. You are far too young and innocent to understand.”

“I may be young, but I’m not innocent,” the lad mused, dropping his gaze to his hands, as if there were something there that no one else could see.

Saitou scoffed, flicking his cigarette ash. Suddenly he felt a touch on his face. He looked up sharply and saw that the young red head had rested his cold palm against his cheek.

“What are you doing?”

“You shouldn’t have come back,” the lad smiled ruefully, “and I shouldn’t either. But I felt it last night, and I feel it now. Here,” he put his other hand to Saitou’s chest, “and here,” he moved his hand lower to Saitou’s groin.

Saitou inhaled sharply, as the other was leaning closer.

“You think I’m but a child, but I know everything about desires.”

Suddenly Saitou leaned back, putting a distance between the two of them. The lad looked at him searchingly.

“Maybe I don’t know as much as I thought,” the red-head sighed, and then withdrew himself.

Saitou was too stunned to react. Not because he was not used to being seduced, but it was the first time someone tried to seduce him so blatantly, and he did not like the feeling of not being in control. A part of himself was angry for spurning the longed-for advances, but another part was relieved. He was still in control of his body and mind.

“Why are you doing this, Himura-kun?” he asked, crushing his cigarette butt with his foot. His voice sounded colder than he intended.

The lad looked up sharply, his amber eyes glowing. For a moment Saitou was able to read him. There was pain in those eyes, although only for a fleeting moment.

“I thought it was what you wanted,” the lad said proudly, straightening himself and made to leave. “I seem to be mistaken. It won’t happen again.”

“Answer me. Why are you doing this?” Saitou repeated his question. “Why are you offering yourself to me? An enemy of your cause?”

The lad kept walking away, ignoring him. His confusion shifting to fury, Saitou called out, “A little lad like you shouldn’t be playing with swords, much less with grown-ups.”

The lad stopped and turned back, looking at Saitou with his now-blazing amber eyes.

Saitou quickly decided to pacify him. “I’m not too proud to say that a little lad like you could make me feel the same, though.”

“Did you?” the lad asked acidly. “Did you indeed?”

“I did,” Saitou said, “I do. Will you give yourself to me if I ask you now?” Although he said it coolly, the mere thought of it made his heartbeat go faster.

“I’ll give you my body, yes,” the lad said without betraying any emotion.

“Perhaps I want more than your body?” Saitou smiled teasingly.

“I can’t think why.”

“Perhaps I want your soul,” Saitou said with a smirk.

“My soul I have given to Ishin Shishi,” the lad glared. “It’s not mine anymore to give.”

“Never mind that now,” Saitou redressed himself quickly, worried that the other would change his mind. “Come with me, then.”

The red-head followed him without a word. They walked for a while, until finally they arrived in front of a dark house squeezed among a bunch of identical small ones standing in a row. Except in one or two houses, there was no light. It was long past midnight; everyone must be asleep by then.

“Whose place is this?”

“Mine.”

Instinctively, Saitou offered his hand to guide the other through the dark rooms. The lad took it, only to let go in a split second.

“Have it your own way,” Saitou snorted and proceeded to open the door to a dark room. He quickly lit an oil lamp. The room looked more habitable than the others. It was almost cosy, even.

“Do you live here?” the lad asked, stepping onto the tatami.

“Not really.”

The lad sat gingerly on the tatami, in front of a low table, while Saitou took out a bottle of sake and two cups.

“Let’s have a drink,” Saitou said, pouring each of them a cupful. The lad emptied his cup in a swift movement, and quickly winced.

“Are you not used to sake?” Saitou asked, watching him intently.

“It tastes like blood.”

Saitou snorted. “That’s because you haven’t been taught to drink properly.”

“There was no time,” the lad mused. The voice of his master came to his mind…

_Murder is the only art a swordsman may practice. No ornamental words can change that. You want to protect people with murder?_

“Pour me some more, Saitou-san” the laid said. As soon as his cup was filled anew, he gulped it in one go.

“Go easy on it,” Saitou frowned. “If you are not used to drinking…”

“Why do you care?” the lad laughed wryly. He still had not succeeded in blocking that reprimanding voice in his mind…

_You'll slaughter legions so that a few may live. Many years, long before you were born, my sword was tearing asunder the lives of men. Yes, all of those men were evil, but they were human beings first and foremost, Kenshin._

“Let me have another cup,” he muttered.

Saitou smirked. “Do not blame me later if you get drunk, Himura-kun.”

The lad did not listen to him. The voice of his master still resonated in his mind…

_If sake tastes bad, it's because there is something wrong with you._

He did not believe those words then. Now he realised how true they were. He looked down silently at his hands. When he looked up again, his eyes were full of tears.

At seeing those tears, Saitou’s boiling blood froze in his veins. Gone all the passions and desires, replaced by a feeling he was not familiar to.

“Let’s just have a drink tonight,” he said gruffly, but not unkindly.

“I apologize, Saitou-san,” the lad gave a sad smile. “I’m not being myself tonight.”

“Neither am I,” Saitou muttered. He quickly finished his drink and made to leave.

“Are you returning to your pack?”

“Yes, where else would I be?” Saitou adjusted his sword.

“I should go too…”

Suddenly Saitou bent his head, kissing the young read head softly on the lips. And then he left without looking back at the startled youth.


	3. Another First

Kenshin Himura, not a lad anymore by any standard, was lost in his own thoughts. Why, after so many years, did he think about that man?

As he was walking home, spent after his unexpected fight with Akamatsu, his thoughts drifted back to a time when hating that man was the last thing that he wanted…

*

The black envelope again. Someone was going to die. Kenshin looked at the accursed paper in his hands. The name of his next victim was written there. Why, why did he think that fighting for his ideals would be easy?

Sighing, he rubbed his cheek absent-mindedly, and then his fingers moved from his cheek to his lips. The memory of the night before made him blush.

Concealing his identity was a decision he made in the hope that he would not come across Saitou again. Now he could not say anything. They would only kill one another if Saitou knew who he was.

No one ever thought that the fearsome hitokiri was a fifteen-year-old lad. It certainly gave him advantage in allaying suspicions. How many people had he deceived before? Saitou was one of them.

Kenshin remembered the gentle kiss, which was nothing like he expected. He thought that Saitou would be a rough lover. Kenshin might be young, but he was not innocent when it comes to the desires of the flesh. He had learnt long ago that there was a strange feeling of peace in carnal pleasures. The offer he made to Saitou was just that – a way to find pleasure in this sorry world.

He sighed to himself, picking up his deadly weapons. He must do his job first, and then he would have the rest of the night to think about it.

The stench of blood did not come off easily those days. It seemed to follow him wherever he went, like his own shadow. It did not matter if he scrubbed himself until his pale skin glow red. He could still smell it on his hands, his clothes, his swords…

Maybe I’m losing my mind, he sighed to himself, as he walked back into the inn later that night, soaked in blood.

His master’s words kept haunting him, but it was too late now to turn back. He had never wanted to be a hitokiri. He wanted to save many lives at the expense of a few, but now he felt that he had killed more people than he could save.

As Kenshin opened the back door to the inn, he felt his sanity was gradually slipping away. He must find something to think about, or something to make him not thinking at all.

He washed his body and changed his bloodied clothes, and then slipped out again, leaving his swords behind.

Quietly, Kenshin took the well-known path to Gion, but he did not stop there. The well-lit Gion made him felt like being found out. It was dark places that suited him best.

He sighed. He could not forget his victims’ eyes. Some of them were harder to forget, like the one who had inflicted the scar on his face while fighting desperately for his life. That fool fought as if he had something worth living for, thought Kenshin scornfully, but deep down he envied that man.

Kenshin was agreeing, absent-mindedly, to go spending the night with someone when he saw Saitou. They stared at each other from a distance, before the other man narrowed his eyes in anger and approached him.

“What are you doing here?” Saitou said coldly, glaring furiously at Kenshin.

Before Kenshin could answer, the Wolf of Mibu growled at the man Kenshin was talking to. “Go away before I kill you.” The man scampered away in fear without looking back.

“What are you doing here?” Saitou repeated, angrier than before.

“What is it to you?” Kenshin asked defiantly, trying to squash the sudden feeling of shame that was steadily rising within him.

“I saw you offering yourself to that man,” Saitou went on, looking at him with disgust, as if he was seeing Kenshin for the first time.

“What if I did?”

Saitou grabbed Kenshin by the arm, dragging him out of the street.

“So, I am right. You are worthless, after all,” Saitou growled menacingly.

Kenshin remembered the gentle touch, the almost tender kiss. The anger he could sense emanating from Saitou and the coldness of his steely eyes made Kenshin shudder slightly. He had thought that he knew Saitou a little, after their last encounter, but now, facing the violent reaction of the feared Wolf of Mibu, Kenshin wondered if it was wise to anger him.

Saitou tightened his grip and barred his teeth, “You fooled me the last time we met,” he resumed. “I thought you were an innocent lad. I see I was mistaken, so there’s no reason to restrain myself anymore.”

Kenshin was suddenly pinned against the wall. He was prepared when Saitou took his lips in a violent kiss. He let himself enjoy the kiss for a moment before struggling himself free.

Saitou was stronger, but, as most people did, he underestimated Kenshin’s strength. Kenshin’s lithe body was stronger than it seemed.

They looked at each other from a safe distance. Saitou eventually shook his head, as if to clear his mind. “What is it about you that makes me act so different than usual?”

Kenshin did not reply, as he did not know the answer, nor did he think that the question was intended for him. He watched silently as Saitou leaned to the wall, took out a cigarette, and started to smoke.

“What are you doing here?” Saitou asked again, calmer now. “What are you looking for?”

“Peace. Oblivion. Pleasure,” Kenshin answered truthfully. “Nothing more.”

“And you find it here?”

“In a way,” Kenshin relaxed his stance. “Nobody knows me here. Nobody asks questions. They just take what they want and give me what I want.”

Saitou looked at Kenshin for a moment, and finally he seemed to reach a decision. “I’ll give you all of that,” he said earnestly. “Come with me.”

Again?

Kenshin’s heart skipped a beat, but he was used to suppress his emotion.

“I can’t give more than my body,” he whispered. “But you’d take more than that. I know that after last night. So, my answer is - and must be - no.”

Saitou was taken aback, but not angry despite the rejection. Indeed, giving more than what he was offered was dangerous for them both. They were not from the same side, after all, and they were in the middle of a war.

“Go, then,” he said. “Find your pleasure somewhere else. But know this: if I find you again, it’s going to happen, whether you like it or not.”

Kenshin nodded and took his leave without looking back, afraid of breaking his resolve.


	4. The First Night

The older Kenshin smiled ruefully to himself. At that time that man really mattered to him. And look how things went south after that. He should have known better than seeking that man again.

But he did.

*

It was the night after the one in the red-light district. That frustrating night where he didn’t find anything but shame. The mere recollection of Saitou’s cold eyes made him shudder.

Kyoto was a big city, but it seemed he was fated to face Saitou again and again. Or maybe it was because they were unconsciously looking for each other.

That night no black envelope was waiting for him at the inn, but he wanted to go outside. The endless loneliness, the incessant talking of the other Ishin Shishi members, the giggling of the maidservants… it was too much. He needed to take a little break from them.

So, there he was, wandering Kyoto’s deserted streets again. Unarmed, he walked aimlessly lost in his thoughts, until suddenly he heard his voice.

“It was the work of Battousai last night,” said the voice. “Clean killing, all right. Only he could have done that.”

Scanning his surroundings, Kenshin realised that he was back again to the area at the outskirts of the city, where the deserted streets were dimly lit, if ever.

“About time we find him, Saitou-san,” another voice, lighter than Saitou’s, answered, and Kenshin stopped dead in his tracks. He quickly stepped silently into the shadows, observing the two men who were talking in front of an abandoned warehouse.

“I know someone who knows him, Okita-kun.”

Kenshin turned a little pale. Saitou must be talking about him. Had Saitou revealed his existence to his comrades? What had he told them?

“Yes, your mysterious boy,” Saitou’s interlocutor laughed. “About time too you introduce me to your friend.”

“We’re not friends,” Saitou answered, sounding slightly annoyed.

“What are you, then?” the other teased him again.

“Nothing,” Saitou replied curtly.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” the other laughed.

“You’re always talking nonsense, Okita-kun,” Saitou sounded even more annoyed. “I’ll see if I could make him talk. That’s all there is to it.”

Kenshin gasped, betraying his presence, but the sudden pain caused by Saitou’s words made Kenshin oblivious of his surroundings. Was he nothing for Saitou, except someone to get information from?

“There’s someone here,” said Saitou’s comrade, the humour gone from his voice.

Kenshin knew he had been discovered. For a second, he almost fled the scene, but finally decided against it. He wanted to face Saitou.

Slowly, Kenshin stepped out of the shadows. Saitou looked tense, like a wolf ready to pounce on its prey. Kenshin noticed that his hand was already resting on the hilt of his sword.

The other man was already in a fighting stance too. He was younger than Saitou. His brown hair framed a delicate face, and for a brief moment Kenshin thought that Saitou seemed to have a type.

So, this was Okita Souji, Kenshin thought, suddenly feeling slightly jealous, although he was not sure why.

When Okita saw Kenshin, looking slightly flustered and unarmed, Okita’s eyes widened briefly, before an amused expression took hold of his handsome face.

“I’ll take my leave now, Saitou-san,” he laughed. “It seems there’s no danger here.”

“I’ll see you later, Okita-kun,” Saitou said to the retreating back of the other man, before turning his attention to Kenshin.

“What are you doing here?”

Kenshin could not answer that simple question. Meanwhile, Saitou’s glare pinned him, making him feel somehow naked.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“I… I was just walking around, Saitou-san,” he replied sincerely.

Saitou did not relax his grip on his sword and took a step closer to Kenshin. “This side of town is not safe for someone who declares to be an enemy,” he said without smiling.

“It seems that I took a wrong turn somewhere.”

“Or a right turn,” Saitou smirked, “since it took you here. Remember what I told you last night?”

Saitou’s eyes had now a predatory glint, and Kenshin shivered a little. “It wasn’t intentional,” he protested.

“It doesn’t matter,” Saitou laughed dryly, suddenly seizing Kenshin’s arms. “You keep appearing in front of me, and there’s only so much restrains I could muster. I’m going to have what I’ve wanted since we first met.”

Saitou’s mouth was over Kenshin’s before the latter had the chance to say anything. This time, it wasn’t like any of the previous two kisses. It wasn’t a gentle caress, nor was it a violent attack, but it was demanding, dominating.

The kiss seemed to go on forever. When Saitou withdrew, Kenshin was panting and flushed. Saitou looked at him, smirking, before he took his lips again.

“I’m not stopping now,” Saitou finally said, his voice hoarse. In a swift move, he led Kenshin into the abandoned warehouse. As soon as they were inside, Saitou closed the door behind them.

It was dark, but they could still see each other thanks to the moonlight which came through the small windows high up.

Saitou impatiently tore Kenshin’s clothes off. Afterward, he paused to look at his coveted prize. There was a strange glint in Saitou's feral-looking eyes. For a while, he let his eyes roaming through the porcelain skin, the chiseled navel, and finally the expressive amber eyes.

Kenshin stepped closer. Calmly, he started undressing Saitou, who did not protest. The man was not a beauty, but his lean body, tall and wiry, made Kenshin’s heart skip a beat.

They kissed again, before hungrily savouring the forbidden fruit, again and again and again...

That night, and the few more nights that were to follow, they were closer to one another than they would ever be again.


	5. The First Hint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter opening (the “present”) is taken verbatim from the manga, Chapter 51, “Confrontation”.

“Kenshin! We were worried about you… Oh, you’re hurt!”

Kenshin was suddenly pulled back to the present, and he blushed slightly. His mind had strayed to the first night he spent together with the other man. Even after all those years, he still remembered that night vividly. He did not realise that he had arrived home, and Kaoru was waiting outside the gate.

“Someone is after you!” Kaoru quickly warned him, “You’d better avoid going outside for a while.”

“Kaoru-dono,” Kenshin was startled, “Where did you hear that from?”

“The police,” she answered, leading the way to the damaged honbu dōjō. “The police chief has sent someone here when you were out.”

Kaoru swiftly opened the sliding door. Yahiko was inside, standing beside a lean figure who was sitting with his back facing the door.

“He’s an assistant inspector at the metropolitan police, and a member of the Sword-Bearing Police, Goro Fujita.”

Kenshin looked at the stranger, who was straddling a sword on his lap. Suddenly Kenshin stopped dead at the threshold.

“It seems that Akamatsu has given you some troubles,” said a familiar voice. The owner of that voice then turned his head, revealing a similarly familiar wolfish face.

“You have indeed become weak,” the man smirked, before standing up and facing Kenshin. “The last time we fought was at the battle of Toba–Fushimi. So, it’s been about… ten years.”

“Kenshin, do you know Fujita-san?” Kaoru asked, confused.

“So, you are now known as Fujita?” Kenshin said coldly, fixing his regard at the tall man. “Captain of the third unit of the Shinsengumi, Saitou Hajime?”

*

“I see you had a good night, Saitou-san,” Okita greeted Saitou amicably when the latter returned to the base early the next morning.

“Indeed,” Saitou answered casually. Something must have given him away, but at that moment he did not care.

“Your little friend was every bit like how you described him, Saitou-san.”

Saitou said nothing. He did not want to discuss Kenshin with his comrades. Not even with Okita.

When Saitou first mentioned Kenshin to Okita, it was a slip. He only wanted to say that he might be able to coax out information about Battousai from a young boy, likely a servant at the enemy’s base. But Okita was such a nosy chatterbox that in the end Saitou revealed more than he intended. He quickly regretted it, of course. It was not that he did not trust Okita, but he simply did not want to discuss his private life with anyone. Not even with someone he trusted with his life.

“Have you figured out what he is to you, Saitou-san?” Okita asked teasingly. Saitou only growled. He did not like to be teased.

Okita laughed, and then resumed his questioning more seriously, “Did you get any information from that boy?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, as long as he did not get any information from _you_.”

“Okita-kun,” Saitou’s eyes glinting dangerously, “How many times must I warn you not to speak carelessly?”

Okita let out his usual amiable laughter. “Forgive me, Saitou-san! I was only joking!” Saitou growled again, but he was in too good a mood to feel really annoyed.

For some time, Saitou thought that after having the lad, his feelings would return back to normal. It was always like that with him. Once he got what he wanted, he would not want them anymore, men and women alike. But this time it was different.

After having Kenshin, feeling the lad’s warm body beneath his, he knew he did not have enough. Most unwise as it was, they kept seeing each other.

Some nights Saitou would leave his base to meet Kenshin at the abandoned warehouse, and they would go together to Saitou's place. After some time Okita and the others did not even bother to ask what he was doing in his free nights.

Saitou was almost happy, although he was not familiar with the sensation. He should have known that good things would not last long.

Both of them were aware of the fragility of their relationship. Although Saitou did not know what Kenshin's work was about, which he assumed to be something trivial, they were still fighting for opposing sides, after all.

Saitou did try to ask Kenshin about his role in the war. "What is it that you're doing for Ishin Shishi?" he asked one night, caressing his lover gently after a passionate love-making.

"Only what I have to do," Kenshin answered absent-mindedly.

“Can’t you tell me?”

“You'll find out sooner or later.”

Eventually, after a few unsuccessful attempts, Saitou let it rest. He assumed Kenshin was too young to hold an important role anyway. He was likely a samurai’s apprentice cum servant, at most, as was usually the case with boys that age. Besides, he had better things to do with Kenshin in those long winter nights than arguing with him.

“What are you fighting for, Hajime?” Kenshin asked him another night, under the dim light of the warm brazier. The lad had started calling him by his given name, and Saitou felt silently pleased with the new intimacy.

“Aku Soku Zan. Slay Evil Immediately.”

“I like the sound of it,” Kenshin mused. “Maybe one day I’d have the privilege to be slain by you.”

This was one of the few things Saitou did not like about Kenshin – how he talked in a mysterious way, as if he had a terrible secret.

It was not the first time Kenshin had spoken like that either. Usually the lad would realise his slip and swiftly steer the conversation away to mere banalities. This time, however, it was different. Something must have happened that day.

“I can’t think why I should kill you,” Saitou said, caressing Kenshin’s smooth skin, as he liked to do after a fiery session of love-making. “I don’t think you’re evil.”

“You’re wrong there.”

“Why? What did you do?”

“My hands are stained,” Kenshin’s voice was just a whisper now. Saitou realised that the lad was half asleep, spent after their passionate love-making, but there was a trace of tears at the corner of his amber eyes.

“Stained with what?"

“What do you think?"

As Saitou did not answer, Kenshin drifted into sleep. He always looked innocent in his slumber, making Saitou wonder about what he was doing with the lad. In calmer nights, when Kenshin slept peacefully after their intense lovemaking, Saitou would even feel that he was corrupting an innocent child.

But that night Kenshin’s sleep was fitful and restless. It was not the first time either that Kenshin seemed to have a terrible nightmare. It had happened three or four times before.

In those nights, Saitou would watch over Kenshin instead of resting himself, ready to nudge the lad gently when the latter became too restless in his sleep. He would then take Kenshin into his strong arms, coaxing him to forget his troubles. As soon as Kenshin calmed his wrecked nerves, Saitou would lull him back to sleep. He would then feel surprised at his own tenderness.

Sometimes, at a moment like that, Saitou was afraid that Kenshin was not entirely sane. There was a hint of insanity behind Kenshin’s enigmatic words, or perhaps a deep-seethed sorrow that was slowly corrupting his soul.

And there was something else that Saitou subconsciously refused to think about.

Kenshin’s restless nights always happened right after Battousai stroke again. That night was one of those.

Thinking about it later, Saitou realised that he should have made the connection sooner, but he could not see it then. Those few weeks were the happiest period he had ever had in a long time. He was blinded by a strong, unfamiliar feeling for the younger man. Could it be love?

And then things spiraled out of control ever so suddenly.

*

Young Kenshin stared at the envelope in his hands, his eyes looked slightly distressed.

“Himura-san,” called I’izuka, the bearer of the deadly message, “You’re not going to open it?”

Kenshin had a bad inkling about it and did not want to open the accursed envelope. But he must, or I’izuka would tell Katsura, who would only send out another assassin. Slowly, Kenshin tore at the envelope, gritting his teeth.

“It’s a dangerous assignment,” said I’izuka, “but my informant told Katsura-sensei that the man has been relentlessly investigating about you."

"I understand."

"He’s pretty sharp, that one, and almost as good as you in swordsmanship," I'izuka said, preparing to leave. "Better to nip it at the bud.”

Kenshin only nodded. Quietly, he folded the paper and put it inside his yukata.

After I'izuka took his leave, Kenshin reached for his swords. There was a new-found calmness in his movements. He knew this would happen sooner or later, so there was no point of shirking his duty now. His loyalty lied first and foremost with Ishin Shishi. The other man knew that too.

Scolding himself for his instant weakness, Kenshin whispered the name written on the paper.

"Saitou Hajime."


	6. The First Duel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, the "past" and "present" are juxtaposed, and Kenshin wanted to kill Saitou in both scenes. The "present" is taken from the original manga, Chapter 53, "A Call and an Answer", depicting one of Kenshin's most famous quotes.

“Stand up, Saitou,” the older Kenshin said calmly, his handsome face impassive. “This would be a pathetic ending of our first battle in ten years.”

“An ending?” Saitou laughed, blood trickling on his severely bruised face. “I wasn't planning on that. But now I changed my mind.”

Kenshin did not reply, quietly waiting for the other man to take his stance. Saitou smirked, “I will kill you now.”

“I will kill you now?” Kenshin said coldly. “That’s my line.”

*

“Saitou-san, there’s a message for you,” Okita greeted Saitou, as they were sitting for their dinner in the hall, “Brought by a special messenger.”

“What special messenger?”

“Your boy, of course,” Okita laughed, taking out an envelope from inside his haori.

“Listen, Okita-kun,” Saitou said coldly in a low voice. It was a tacit agreement between Kenshin and him not to venture near the other’s base. “I’m as good in being teased as the next man, but my patience has its limits.”

“I’m not teasing, Saitou-san,” Okita said in his most innocent voice. “Your boy did come here earlier, when you were out.”

Indeed, Okita did not lie. Earlier that evening, he spotted Kenshin standing outside at a corner, and gladly approached the distinctive red-head. He always wanted to talk with Kenshin without Saitou hovering around, as he was curious to find out more about the mysterious boy.

“Himura-san, isn’t it?” Okita smiled. “Saitou-san is not here. Would you like to wait inside?”

Kenshin paled slightly, and then shook his head.

“Don’t be afraid of us, Himura-san. We won’t hurt you," Okita laughed amicably. "Saitou-san said you are not dangerous, and his words are enough for us. Even though you are carrying swords.”

Kenshin looked into Okita’s eyes when he said those last words. Although Okita was still smiling, the smile did not reach his eyes, which remained sharp and alert.

“Say, Himura-san,” Okita said in a slippery voice. “Has Saitou-san ever seen you with your swords?”

Kenshin did not reply. Instead, he held out a small envelope. He did not trust Okita, but he could not stay any second longer at that place. “Could you please give this note to him?” he asked.

Okita took the envelope, still smiling, as if knowing that something was afoot. “I’ll see you around, Himura-san!” he called out, as the other made to leave.

“And here’s the note,” Okita pushed it into Saitou’s hand. The latter took the envelope with a scowl and left without touching his dinner. In the foyer he quickly read the note.

_Don’t go there ever again. The shadow is after you._

Saitou stared at Kenshin’s handwriting. How did the lad know that Battousai was after him? He was not afraid of the hitokiri, of course, not in the least. If anything, he was pleased that he finally got the chance to meet the fearsome swordsman.

Ignoring the note, Saitou left for the warehouse later that night.

The place was dark and cold as usual, and Kenshin was not there. That was expected. If Kenshin told him not to go there, he would not come either.

The door to the warehouse was ajar. Saitou came in and waited there. Kenshin might stay away, but the shadow assassin would be perhaps coming for him.

He had waited for about an hour, when the sound of footsteps alerted him of someone’s presence.

"I told you not to come here ever again, Hajime.”

“Kenshin!”

The lad stepped over the threshold, but then he stopped there instead of getting near Saitou.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Saitou approached him.

“That's my line,” Kenshin said curtly. “Why didn’t you listen to me, Hajime?”

Saitou stopped in his tracks. There was something in Kenshin’s voice that he did not like.

“I’m not afraid of Battousai, you know that.”

Kenshin took one step forward, but his face was still concealed in darkness. “Yes, I know,” he said, rather forlornly. “I guessed you'd come anyway. How I wish I could be your Kenshin for a bit longer.”

“I don’t understand a word you’re saying,” Saitou said, annoyed. “This is not the time to talk in riddles. Tell me this, rather. How do you know that Battousai is after me?”

Kenshin took out a piece of folded paper and flicked it to Saitou. “It’s his assignment for tonight. You can read your name there, can’t you?”

“Did you take this from him?” Saitou was alarmed. “You shouldn’t have taken such a risk!”

“There was no risk,” Kenshin replied, “Who do you think I am?”

“His personal servant, am I right?" Saitou spoke rapidly and moved closer to Kenshin. "That’s why you said you’ve met him. That's why you could get close to him and know about tonight's assignment.” 

And then he realised for the first time that night that Kenshin was carrying weapons with him.

“You want to believe that, don't you?” Kenshin sounded almost angry. “I wish you weren't here. Now I have no choice. But you cannot resist the temptation to fight Battousai, can you, Hajime?”

Saitou started to feel afraid, but not for himself. He was afraid for Kenshin. Kenshin’s behaviour was very strange, and his words were even more insane than usual.

“What’s up with you tonight, Kenshin? And why are you armed?”

"You're about to get what you wish for, Hajime," Kenshin replied, his face remained stony, “I have loved you - that you should know. But we are in the middle of a war.”

Saitou still refused to understand. No, that couldn’t be.

“Kenshin…,” Saitou started, but the owner of that name was now brandishing his sword menacingly.

“Saitou Hajime, Captain of the third unit of the Shinsengumi,” Kenshin’s voice changed into an impenetrable coldness, “You are an enemy of our cause. Although I hold no grudge against you, I, Himura Battousai of Ishin Shishi, will take your life.”


	7. The Cruelty of the Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter was taken from the original manga, Chapter 49.

For the first time since they met, Kenshin could read Saitou’s eyes. And what he saw there saddened him. First, he saw shock, followed by incredulity, and then hatred.

Saitou shot him a hateful glare while brandishing his own sword. Kenshin steeled himself and took his signature Battoujutsu fighting stance.

“So, you’ve played me all along,” the Wolf of Mibu snarled.

“I told you not to take more than what you were offered, Saitou,” replied Kenshin, reverting to surname. The man in front of him was no longer his lover, but an enemy. If he could convince himself that, he would be able to do his assignment. Otherwise, he would only have one recourse left.

Fragments of conversations were clicking into place in Saitou’s mind, making him angrier by the minute.

_What is it that you do for Ishin Shishi? – Only what I have to do._

_Did Battousai do that to you? – In a way of speaking._

_My hands are stained. – Stained with what? – What do you think?_

Yes, Saitou could see that now. His cherished lover was the hitokiri he was desperately wanting to kill. Calmly now, he also took a fighting stance.

“Here I come,” said Kenshin, as the convention dictated, and then he attacked.

Saitou finally saw first-hand why Battousai was a much-feared assassin. His speed was magnificent. In a second, those pair of amber eyes were already in front of him, and in the next second he was forced to dodge a nearly-fatal blow.

Someone less skilled than himself would have been dead, but Saitou was not an ordinary swordsman. He had enough skills and determination to match Battousai’s.

Battousai retreated to the furthest corner, preparing his next deadly attack. At that moment, however, Saitou thought he saw something shone in Battousai eyes. Could it be relief?

Stuff and nonsense, Saitou scolded himself. If he could stop seeing him as Kenshin, he could win that fight.

Unsheathing his sword with a surprising speed, Battousai attacked him again, and Saitou dodged the blow by a hair. Battousai was truly a manslayer. No regret now, Saitou thought, launching his own attack, but his opponent skillfully parried it.

For several minutes the fight progressed furiously. And then Saitou saw something.

He did not know if his opponent realised that, but Battousai always left his chest open for a very brief moment right before delivering each fatal blow. Was it a weakness no one had ever seen before?

That’s strange, Saitou mused to himself. But there was no time to think. He was not sure he would be able to keep parrying Battousai’s attacks. Either take the chance or be killed in the next move.

He decided for the former. Aiming for Battousai’s heart, Saitou took his Gatotsu zero-stance.

That’s it, isn’t it? He would defeat the feared hitokiri Battousai with the next blow. But why did it feel so wrong?

The flicker of emotions in Battousai’s eyes gave him the answer.

_Maybe one day I’d have the privilege to be slain by you._

Saitou almost gasped at the realisation. In the last second, he changed the course of his sword. Instead of the heart, he pierced the right shoulder, pinning the other man to the wall.

The next thing Kenshin saw was Saitou standing right in front of him, glowering.

“Oh, no,” Saitou scowled menacingly. “You won’t go out like that. I’m not giving you that.”

Kenshin looked at him in silence. His amber eyes did not show any emotion.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” Saitou shouted to his face. “You thought you could trick me into killing you, giving you an easy way out?”

Kenshin still did not answer, but he lowered his eyes, as if ashamed that his opponent could read his plan.

“If you want to die, fight me properly,” Saitou snarled, “Either I’ll die, or you’ll die.”

“I can’t,” came the trembled reply. “I came here to kill you, but as soon as I fought you, I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with that if I win the fight.”

“Look at me!” Saitou snarled, hitting him on the face.

When his opponent raised his eyes again, it was the sad eyes Saitou knew so well.

“You wanted to kill hitokiri Battousai, didn’t you?” Kenshin said. “Go on. This is your chance.”

Saitou hit Kenshin’s face again, harder than before, splitting his lips. “You’re fighting just to get killed!” he growled. “I want to fight the real hitokiri.”

“I _am_ the real hitokiri,” Kenshin said desperately, blood was trickling from his lips. And then he added inaudibly to himself, “Although I’ve never wanted to be.”

“Then fight me as the hitokiri!”

“I told you I can’t.”

“Haven’t I told you before,” Saitou growled, lifting Kenshin’s chin, “A little lad shouldn’t be playing with swords, much less with grown-ups. Fight me properly, or else…”

“I won’t,” Kenshin was obstinate. “You’ll just have to kill me. That’s your duty as a member of Shinsengumi. There’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”

“Oh, but there is,” Saitou smirked, and then he yanked his sword free. "I can think of a way."

Kenshin fell to the floor. Before he could react, Saitou took his swords away and tossed them aside. The next thing he knew, Saitou was standing over him, untying his kaku obi.

As realisation dawned upon Kenshin, he made to edge away from Saitou. But a punch to his fresh wound made him feeling faint for a few seconds, and a few seconds were all Saitou needed.

“You’ll want to kill me all right,” Saitou said cruelly, as blood was pounding on his temples, “You’ll want to fight me for real next time we meet. I’ll make you, you’ll see.”

Kenshin had only known Saitou as a gentle lover. The only time Saitou was rough with him was on the first night they were together, as he had waited too long, and his passion ran rather too high. But this time, it was different.

This time, Saitou was nothing but cruel. There was nothing about passion on that accursed night. It was about hurting and humiliating an enemy.

When the combination of pain and humiliation became unbearable, tears started streaming down Kenshin’s face, but Saitou was unrelenting. His cold eyes kept watching Kenshin’s tearful ones, and his strong arms kept his helpless victim in place.

When it was finally over, Saitou looked at the small figure underneath him, half-naked and broken, lying on the cold hard floor. For the last few minutes he had been silent, no longer struggling to get free.

An unwanted guilt took hold of Saitou’s heart, but only for a brief moment. He refused to feel bad about it. Kenshin was the one who lied to him and tried to trick him. He stood up and rearranged his clothes, not looking at Kenshin anymore.

“I will kill you, Saitou Hajime,” Kenshin’s broken voice sounded cold and full of hatred. There was no doubt that he meant what he said. “I hate you! You wouldn't kill me, but you couldn’t leave me even that either – the memories I cherished. Now I have nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“Well, whose fault is that, Battousai?” Saitou said flatly, adjusting his sword.

“Next time we see each other,” Kenshin said to the retreating back, “One of us will die.”

“And so be it,” Saitou said, pushing open the door without looking back. He paid no heed to the restrained sobs behind him. Steadily, he went back to his base. To his former self.


	8. The Last Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The background of this chapter was taken verbatim from the ending scene of the OVA, "Trust and Betrayal", depicting Kenshin, Saitou, and Okita.

Saitou often thought about that night. What he did was perhaps uncalled for, but he was furious and frustrated at that time, not to mention feeling deeply hurt at the betrayal. Afterwards he half-regretted his actions, especially after they met again after that horrible night.

Saitou was grateful for the Ikedaya Affair, which took his mind off things. After the Affair, the rumours about Battousai duly receded. Nobody knew where the man was, which was expected, as many surviving members of the defeated Ishin Shishi had fled Kyoto.

But now he had returned to the centre of turmoil. And this time he left the shadows and was seen in the battlefields. No one knew that the dangerous red-haired swordsman was hitokiri Battousai, of course, except Saitou. Likely Okita knew that too, but he said nothing to his comrades.

His flaming red hair and skillful swordsmanship made it easy to spot him. Okita noticed him first, and then he alerted Saitou. But they only fought very briefly that day, and without any conclusion either.

They met again at the battle of Toba-Fushimi. That night, he covered the backs of his fleeing comrades, putting himself between them and the Shinsengumi.

“Leave them alone,” he said coldly, but then added, perhaps uncharacteristically for a manslayer, “If you leave now, you will live.”

“He has red hair!”

“And a cross-shaped scar!”

A calm voice came from behind, “It is the hitokiri.”

“Kumicho!” the other Shinsengumi members quickly made way for their young leader, who smilingly came forward, brandishing his sword.

Kenshin quickly recognised Okita Souji, the Captain of the first unit of the Shinsengumi.

The man looked frailer than the last time Kenshin saw him, and his handsome face was very pale, but his sword still proved dangerous to his opponent.

They fought fiercely. Despite looking ill, Okita was able to hold his own, until he suddenly coughed up blood and was forced to take a short pause. Kenshin looked on, waiting mercilessly for his opponent to straighten up in order to deliver his next attack, which he knew would be the last.

“Okita-kun,” a familiar voice called out. "Stand back."

That voice! Kenshin’s anger was slowly rising.

“Saitou-san…,” Okita was breathless, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, but he still did not retreat.

“I'm very sensitive to the smell of blood, boy,” Saitou approached him. “You cannot defeat him in your current condition.”

Okita relented, and Saitou walked past him, facing Kenshin.

Kenshin felt a tinge of jealousy, just like in the old times, but he dismissed it right away. How foolish of him to think about the past. He no longer cared about Saitou and Okita. His only concern was to kill them. Calmly, he straightened up to face his lover-turn-nemesis.

Taking his famous Gatotsu stance, Saitou smirked, “Here I come.”

Soon, they were locked in a furious battle. Kenshin’s techniques were flawless. No opening to his vital parts now. The battle was fierce and equal.

When they were face to face, separated only by the blade of their sword, Kenshin glared at Saitou with so much hatred that the latter almost recoiled at its intensity. Curiously, Saitou found himself asking what had been bothering him all the time, although he was not really expecting an answer.

“Who did that to you? Your second scar?”

“My wife.”

Married? So much things had changed since that fateful night.

“Why?” Saitou did not realise that he was thinking aloud.

“None of your business! I killed her. And I’ll kill you now!”

Saitou was so taken aback at the answer that he did not resume their fighting. Seeing Saitou retreating to his pack, Kenshin too retreated and soon disappeared into the night. Again, their fight was inconclusive. Little did they know that they would not meet again for another ten years.

That night, Saitou was restless. The lad he knew, the lad he had loved, died long ago. Now he realised the brutality of his action. Snippets of conversations from a distant past came flooding Saitou's mind, filling him with mixed emotions.

_Perhaps I want your soul. - My soul I have given to Ishin Shishi. It’s not mine anymore to give._

_Come with me. - I can’t give more than my body. But you’d take more than that._

And he did. He had killed Kenshin that night, taking whatever left from his soul.


	9. A New Beginning

That night, having done away with Shibumi and Akamatsu, Saitou walked alone on the riverbank, cursing Kenshin for causing his whole body ache.

Had Okubo's man, Kawaji, not stopped them at the nick of time, would they have killed each other? How could he get carried away like that? For a moment, he had thought that he was thrown back to the chaotic Bakumatsu period, where he had to kill his opponents before him at all costs.

But deep in him he was relieved. Kenshin seemed to have made peace with his past.

A familiar figure was sitting on the grass, looking at the river. Saitou smiled to himself, and then approached the man.

“Great minds think alike,” he said, sitting next to Kenshin.

“Tell me,” Saitou resumed, when the other did not answer, “Do you still hate me?”

“Do you expect me to feel otherwise?”

“I did what I had to do,” Saitou growled. “You didn’t want to kill me. I get that. But what made you think it was easier for me to kill you?”

Kenshin said nothing.

“I’ll say this again," Saitou said gruffly, "Children shouldn’t play with swords, much less with grown-ups. You’re not a child anymore. I hope you could understand it a little better now.”

When Kenshin remained silent, Saitou said, rather desperately, “Look, we’re both adults now. We spent our youth in one of the bloodiest periods of our nation's history, and yet we survived, although not unscathed."

"So?"

"As if it weren't enough," Saitou sighed, "after what happened between us, you lost the first woman in your life. And I lost Souji. I'd say we could try to get along a little better from now on.”

Kenshin had started feeling mellowed, but the mention of Okita froze him. Saitou quickly realised his mistake.

“I know you didn’t like him,” he smiled.

"I think the feeling was mutual," Kenshin snorted.

"Well, I don't know," Saitou mused. “Do you remember that you wanted to kill him, even though he was coughing up blood in front of you?"

"Of course I remember," Kenshin answered curtly. "I also remember how you quickly stepped in to save his skin."

"What do you expect?" Saitou retorted, half-amused. "He was my brother-in-arm, and he was also gravely ill, although he tried to conceal it. You know he died later that year."

Kenshin only looked away.

"He was all right - Souji," Saitou resumed, smiling faintly. "He was a great help to me, too, after you broke _my_ heart.”

“I'm sure he was,” Kenshin said, rather acidly.

Saitou laughed. He started to feel like talking to the old Kenshin.

Kenshin sighed. “Indeed I’m not a child anymore. I came to understand what you did a long time ago. But that does not change the fact that what you did was _wrong_."

"I know, and I'm sorry. Truly," Saitou said, sincerely and without irony.

"You asked me if I still hate you," Kenshin said quietly, almost in a whisper. "The answer is yes. And the answer to the other question, the one you wouldn't ask,” he paused for a few second, "is yes too…, Hajime."

Silence fell between them. Finally, Saitou stood up, picking up his bloodied jacket.

“I’ll wait for your answer to Okubo’s request,” he said, his voice seemed much lighter. And then, as if re-enacting their first meeting, he added, “Go home, Kenshin. Ask someone to dress your wounds.”

And with those words they parted ways.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank Aleia, the original writer of this work.  
> I re-wrote the story as a prequel to my own story on Saitou/ Okita (WIP), which will be set in the Bakumatsu period as well, so that the trilogy would be written in the same style.


End file.
